


I.O.U

by sainthound



Series: Camp Camp rarepair hell [4]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Clarice is harrison's mom, Dana is Nurf's mom, F/F, Quickies, alternate title "we tried to discreetly fuck on parents' day and neither of us came", this is rushed but I'm sick and stressed and I don't care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 17:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainthound/pseuds/sainthound
Summary: Still, at least Candy and Carl had it worse.





	I.O.U

"...oh."

Dana rolls her eyes in amusement and presses her lips to Clarice's neck, her hands gently stroking her sharp hips. She feels Clarice tremor under her touch.

"Oh. God."

"Shhh. You want us to get caught?"

"I couldn't give less of a damn," Clarice mutters, breathless. Her eyelashes flutter and she presses a hand over her mouth to stifle a soft gasp. "Oh, God. Oh Lord. That feels... too nice."

Dana grins and trails her lips up to nip gently at her earlobe. "Too nice? Maybe I should stop." She makes to pull back ever so slightly and almost laughs when Clarice shakily grasps her wrist. There's no way she can resist that, she thinks half-grudgingly, dipping her mouth back to Clarice's pretty neck. Damn this woman. Damn her to Hell, with her piteous wheedling voice and her big green puppy-dog eyes and her rare, shy affection.

She's almost certain Clarice feels the same about her. Is that what she's thinking, as she arches and shivers against her? "Damn Dana Nurfington, that utterly ravishing demon." She hopes so. It stirs something in her, to think that Clarice might dwell on her devilish charm in private. All fanciful, of course.

But what isn't fanciful is the little broken noises she's making now, not quite moans, as Dana's kisses turn to small bites. She won't leave marks, as much as she'd love to cover Clarice in hickeys - if Joseph clued in, they'd be done for.

Mewling, that's what she's doing, Dana has a word for it now. Clarice is mewling and she doesn't know what to do with her hands, they're shaking so badly. Dana takes them in her own, so big they practically envelop Clarice's delicate ones, and places them on her shoulders.

Clarice gives her a timid, twitchy smile. "Would you, um, touch me?" She asks politely. Too politely, as if she's asking Dana whether she wants sugar in her tea. She's embarrassed, Dana supposes. Poor thing.

"Mm, I don't know. I think you're gonna have to be more specific," she says in a low voice, rubbing small circles with her thumbs on Clarice's hips. Clarice trembles and blushes.

"You know what I mean! Don't make me say it, Dana, please," she begs. And there it is, that piteous whiny tone she sometimes has, the one that sets Dana's heart pounding. She swallows hard.

"Well..." Dana murmurs, trailing her hands higher, over Clarice's ribcage - she can feel her ribs but she won't say anything now, she doesn't want to upset her - "Do you want me to touch your tits, huh?"

Clarice shivers, a full-body shiver, and a tiny noise slips from her mouth. Dana smiles and gently palms one of her breasts through her shirt, leaning close to press an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck. "Cat got your tongue?" She purrs, and Clarice very nearly yelps. Her entire body is so tense and yet so open, malleable - she's practically made of nervous, desperate energy, wound like a spring.

"Y- yes," she finally gasps. "Please."

"Good girl," Dana chuckles, giving her breast a harder knead before taking her hand away altogether. Clarice whines helplessly.

"Or, maybe," Dana continues, ignoring the reproachful eyes staring up at her, "maybe, you want me to touch you here, instead."

Her hand nudges between Clarice's legs, at the juncture of her long cotton skirt, and she melts against Dana's chest with what sounds like a sob.

Dana clicks her tongue sympathetically and doesn't take her hand away this time, moving it back and forth gently. "There, don't work yourself up," she soothes, placing a kiss on Clarice's forehead. "I'm not gonna tease you anymore, 'kay Clare? Promise. Just relax."

Clarice gives her a shaky half-smile and then jolts, pressing her hand tightly over her mouth. Dana smirks and moves her hand just a little harder - if Clarice is still the same as in college, she's a screamer.

"Please," she half-yelps, muffling her noises with her hand. "God- it feels really, really good, please, I-"

"Don't hold me to anything, Clare, but I think my guard's about to find out where I am."

"...what?"

Dana pulls back apologetically and peers around the edge of the cabin. Sure enough, her gut instinct was right - her accompanying prison guard is walking in their direction. She's gonna get given hell for this, maybe even extra time, but frankly, it was worth it.

She turns back to Clarice. Poor thing. Quivering, wide-eyed, and uncomfortably aroused. 

Dana feels terrible.

"Look, Clare, can I give you an I.O.U?"

Clarice eyes her skeptically and folds her arms, trying to regain just a little bit of dignity. "For what?"

Dana's heart melts - no matter how angry she tries to sound, she always seems adorably nonthreatening.

"An I.O.U for when I get out of prison," she replies hurriedly, glancing over her shoulder. Without a second look she steps close and tilts Clarice's chin up, pecking her gently on her lips. "When I get out, I'll get in touch. And I promise you I'll fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked before, alright?"

With a wolfish grin, she steps away and makes a mad dash out from behind the cabin, leaving Clarice completely open-mouthed and dazed.


End file.
